


France, 1693

by kayeblaise



Series: SVT Immortals AU [7]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Gen, in which seungcheol and wonwoo have a very particular set of skills, none of which are they reason jeonghan asked them to france, not necessary to read the other parts to read this, team as family style, the infamous chartes storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayeblaise/pseuds/kayeblaise
Summary: "He re-imagined the penning of the letter that had summoned them to France.  They weren’t here to protect the people at Chartes. Jeonghan had asked them along on a mission of mercy."





	1. Chartes Cathedral, 1693

The doorway was large enough to accommodate all three of them, yet they stepped over the threshold one at a time.  The way Jeonghan strode inside was so casual and flippant he might as well have been entering a cottage by the seashore.  Wonwoo took a moment to tug on the front of his jacket and straighten his spine before he stepped after him.  Seungcheol didn’t miss him duck his head a bit as if he was afraid he’d hit his head on the doorframe, though there was no chance of that. 

It only occurred to Seungcheol that he couldn’t follow them as he stood there alone on the steps staring into the shadows swirled with stained glass images.  The shadow of the cross lay over the center aisle. 

“Seungcheol?” Jeonghan noticed his hesitation and held out his hand invitingly.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered, causing Wonwoo to turn back as well.

“Why not?”

Even in the dead of night he lowered his voice like the statues of saints were staring down at him with accusing eyes.  “I’m a werewolf.”

“Yes, well, he’s a witch and I am an evolving grab-bag of sins but neither of us burned up so will you step inside?”

Seungcheol exchanged glances with Wonwoo to make sure the other didn’t have reason to object and then stepped into the cathedral.  He stood just inside the doorway for a moment, listening for the sound of the floor cracking open to swallow him whole. 

Nothing of the sort happened.  Wonwoo nodded further into the building and they both followed Jeonghan who had gone on ahead, walking directly down the center aisle.

Seungcheol cringed at the way their steps echoed.  He imaged even silence could echo along the arching stone walls.  Jeonghan did not seem equally concerned as he led the way around the pews toward a side chapel.  Honestly, Seungcheol wasn’t certain that Jeonghan’s footsteps were making a sound.  He tried to count if he could hear more than two sets of footfalls but the sounds echoed back.  Wonwoo was too distracted to notice Seungcheol’s unease.

“How do you know where you’re going?” Seungcheol ventured to ask once Jeonghan had brought them through a corridor with closer walls.

“Rumors,” Jeonghan answered casually.  He suddenly spun around causing Seungcheol to stop in his tracks.  “The people at the palace love nothing more than to talk.”

Seungcheol was certain he was supposed to infer something from the statement and the slightly amused raise of Jeonghan’s eyebrow but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what.

“Is it possible we could continue, please?”  Wonwoo’s statement was accompanied by an aloof sniff but it was hard to miss the way he was shuffling between his feet.  Seungcheol understood the other’s unease even if he was surprised Wonwoo struggled to hide it.  Of course, there was no love lost between witches and the church, but Seungcheol had never seen Wonwoo’s eye dart at shadows even when they’d wandered into the darkest parts of the night.    

Jeonghan waited a moment as if to listen for something then said, “This way.”

The air had become damp though there were torches lit along the walls.  The arms of the cathedral seemed alive.

Jeonghan stopped in front of a wooden door.  His hand was absently slipped under his outer jacket where his heart would be. 

“Is this it?” Seungcheol asked. 

Jeonghan paused before he answered, “Yes, I think so.” 

Jeonghan was never unsure about anything but he sounded it now as he reached out, lifted the ring on the door and pushed it in. 

They stepped into a small radial chapel, lit by the multitude of candles for the Mary statue in the room with a pile of cloth at its feet.  The room was empty otherwise.  The sand floor protected against the risk of fire.

“Gods and holidays,” he heard Wonwoo swear next to him.

There was the sound of someone hissing through their teeth and it must have been Jeonghan though it didn’t seem like him. 

Seungcheol didn’t at first know what they were reacting to.  Then the pile of harsh angles and cloth that was thrown at the foot of the Mary statue shifted in the sand.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the odd growl that came from the pale and hollow form.  But he saw the hand that was pressing against the ground shake in the small effort to push himself up. 

Seungcheol started to step forward but Jeonghan grabbed his arm. 

“It’s best you don’t,” he whispered.

Seungcheol tried to tease Jeonghan’s reasoning out into the open.  Instead he got an image flashed into the back of his mind.  A thorn prick: a drop of red blood.

Seungcheol looked again at the figure now hunched against the statue.  This was who they were hunting for:  the reason Jeonghan had summoned them to France in the first place.  But surely they had to know any threat was long past. This was a predator starving to death.

Jeonghan pulled on his arm to turn his attention back and pushed into his mind _:  I’m not protecting you._ Feeling compelled, Seungcheol tried to catch a glimpse of the figure’s eyes.  The impulse was likely from Jeonghan.  He saw through the curtain of hair falling in front of the figure’s face the black expanse of his blown-out pupils.

When he was certain Seungcheol was staying put, Jeonghan let go of his arm and stepped forward himself. 

“Jeonghan,” Wonwoo warned.

“You know what they say about royalty,” Jeonghan teased back bravely. 

Seungcheol hesitated and turned to Wonwoo for a cue to grab Jeonghan back.

Instead Wonwoo shook his head, mumbling: “Blue bloods.”

“Don’t worry about me, Seungcheol,” Jeonghan’s voice floated back as if he could hear his hesitation.  In all likelihood, he could. A new set of pictures were flashed into his mind:  the same thorn, Jeonghan’s smile, a drop of blue. 

He stared at Jeonghan’s back while he crouched down beside the figure in the sand. 

Jeonghan went to place his hand on the figure’s shoulder but he was blocked.  The brushing away of his hand was weak but deliberate.  The threatening sound that followed was chillingly human.  

Seungcheol could tell by the tone of Wonwoo’s voice that he was shaking his head as he mumbled, “How could they let it get this bad?”  The sympathy was something he was not accustomed to hearing in the other.

Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he moved closer.  “Come on now.”  This time he managed to get his hand onto the figure’s shoulder.  His voice was so low that had they been another week away from the moon Seungcheol wouldn’t have heard him say with familiar affection: “I told you before, there’s nothing you can take from me.  I’ve got the wrong sort of blood."

Seungcheol wasn’t proud of the fact that Wonwoo and Jeonghan were years ahead of him in puzzling out stuff like this but he knew he had somehow gotten the wrong impression.  When Jeonghan had written to them with rumors of a vampire in Chartes he had pictured a figure hidden in the bell tower, striking at random—hunting.  He had not pictured this—a creature so weak the only thing keeping them in motion was the demon of their immortality. 

Jeonghan put his hand at the back of the other’s head and mumbled, “I told you that you could trust me.”

Something tugged at Seungcheol’s heart to witness the uncommon gentleness of Jeonghan’s gestures and words.  He reimagined the penning of the letter that had summoned them to France.  They weren’t here to protect the people at Chartes.  Jeonghan had asked them along on a mission of mercy.

“You know him,” Wonwoo stated rather than asked.

“From the palace, before he disappeared on me,” Jeonghan completed the thought.

“What do you think you’re doi—” by the time the exclamation had registered in Seungcheol’s mind enough to turn, Wonwoo had grabbed the intruder by the front of his robes and slammed him against the wall.

The small man was dressed in black, the white gap of collar at his throat indicating his status.  Thin glasses on his nose were pushed askew by the force with which Wonwoo had grabbed him.  But despite the threat of Wonwoo towering over him, the father’s eyes were fixed on where Jeonghan and the vampire of Chartes lay at the foot of the statue of Mary. 

“What are you doing in here?” the man stuttered out. 

 Seungcheol himself was surprised by the ferocity with which Wonwoo was still glaring at the smaller man.

“Finding the skeletons in your closet,” he said threateningly. 

The father to his credit fought to break the hold Wonwoo had on him, saying, “You don’t understand the danger you are in.  You have to get out of here.”

“What danger?” Wonwoo countered viciously. He stepped to the side but did not let his grip loosen until the father could fully see the figure struggling to stay up on their hands and knees on the floor.  “Look at him.  What is there to be scared of?”

“You don’t understand,” the father answered, managing to keep his voice surprisingly level, “he is not an ordinary man.”

“And what kind of man are you—”

“He begged us to keep him here.”

The tension in the room crystallized and froze.

Sensing he had their attention now, the father explained, “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve got the whole business wrong.  He came to us. . . We took him in—prayed with him, he had a place at our table,” the father was looking at the vampire with something like pity but not fear.

Wonwoo’s hands loosened on the father and the smaller man pulled his robes free.  “Jun was afraid of himself and of what he might do.  He begged us to help him.  He had nowhere else to go.”

Jeonghan’s voice was barely a whisper but Seungcheol caught it.  He turned his ears to the words and realized that the vampire had been repeating over and over in an almost unintelligible and desperate tone, “He’s dead,” and Jeonghan was answering the mantra with firm words, “Good. I’m glad.”

Seungcheol’s stomach twisted uncertainly.  All of a sudden he felt guilty for standing in the room.  This wasn’t the side he normally stood on in circumstances like these.  “You wanted to help someone like him?” he asked the priest, hoping to prompt him to continue.

“We are not afraid of strangeness as you might think.  No one is irredeemable in God’s eyes.  But he was terrified by the sin of his desire.”

“You call it a sin,” Wonwoo said lowly, “but you drink the blood of your God in ritual every Sunday.”

The priest did not seem offended.  He leveled his gaze with Wonwoo and nodded, saying, “Yes.  Blood freely given and poured out for all.”

“You can’t help him,” Jeonghan said gently, then, drawing the priest’s attention.  “You know that you can’t.  What you’re doing is hurting him.”

Seungcheol could not feel the push in the words, but he could see it painted on Jeonghan’s face.

At the same moment, Jun crumpled.  His forehead dug into the sand. 

Wonwoo strode forward, dropping down beside the vampire though Jeonghan was staring holes through him. 

“I think it’s a little late to be worried about that,” Wonwoo answered whatever Jeonghan had said to him.  Wonwoo was searching through the many pockets of his coat.  He tsked between his teeth, mumbling to himself.  “Yarrow’s not enough.”  Without any kind of caution or hesitation he pulled a few leaves off a stem he removed from his pocket and fit them into the vampire’s mouth. “Chew.”  Jun didn’t have the presence of mind, it seemed, to refuse. 

Seungcheol noticed the priest watching the proceeding with curious fascination.  He could almost see the thoughts turning inside of his head. 

“Do you think you could help him?”

Seungcheol was surprised by the question but more surprised that he had an answer: “Yes.” 

He noticed something odd in the way the father had said “you” as if he had really said “your kind” or “you people” as if he understood what they were.  Although Seungcheol had spent years running from the idea that he had any familiarity with the devils he hunted, he felt a defiance and a pride in it that night.

A conflict seemed to run over the father’s face, and then he stepped back from the door.

“Go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, it's a New Year's Day miracle, guys. Here's one of the very first pieces I ever wrote!


	2. Champagne, 3 months earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter is chronologically earlier than the first.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Careful readers may want to preview the end notes.

He spotted his target with unexpected suddenness as the crowd shifted to reveal the stranger standing not quite at the edge of the room.  His was a design almost certainly preternatural:  tall and slim and well-balanced.  His face was high points and dark eyes and black hair.  Somehow the crowd did not notice the masterpiece in their midst.

That was his luck, then.

He slipped over to stand beside the stranger in casually close proximity. 

“You know,” he began, “they’re calling this stuff the devil’s wine.”  He raised an eyebrow invitingly as he lifted his glass to his mouth, sipping deeply.  

The stranger stood pin straight.  His only sign of response was his eyes.  They slipped down the line of Jeonghan’s throat as he tipped his head back to drink. 

Jeonghan kept a close smile, amused by the obvious tell.  “Apparently, the bottles keep exploding in the cellars.  It's been causing all sorts of mayhem."

“You’re not the first person to tell me that tonight,” the man answered, like he understood that Jeonghan had no intention of leaving even if he kept his silence.

“But I could very well be the best,” he countered, then slid on before the calculation in the man’s dark eyes could evolve. The stranger didn't seem to be of the status to be invited on his own.  He floated his curiosity playfully, “Whose arm are you on tonight that they would be foolish enough to leave you by yourself with all these prying eyes and know-it-alls?” 

Jeonghan touched the taller’s arm while he spoke, only to have him pull away from the contact. 

He frowned at the practiced subtlety of the action and the way the man’s face had set. 

With greater focus, he raked questioning eyes over the stranger.  His control was frayed just enough at the edges for Jeonghan to see through.  He had suspected all along that he was dealing with an immortal.  The idea had excited him from the start.  But he was now certain which kind of immortal as the stranger struggled to keep his yearning focus off of the room full of courtesans laughing and flirting with flushed faces and full glasses of wine. 

Jeonghan leant in close and let his voice slip lower enticingly, “You know, no one here would question it if I stepped out with a good looking stranger.  You can’t take anything from me I wouldn’t offer. Just say the word.”

“You’re not like them.”

The stranger said it without looking at him and his voice was too young though he hadn’t given off the air before. 

“Blue blood,” he said honestly, “You won’t have interest in that, but I think there may be other ways to keep your interest.”

The hollow look he received in return was enough to knock the enjoyment out of his expression.  His demeanor collapsing back into normalcy, he questioned,  “You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

The lack of comprehension in the other’s face confirmed it.  Jeonghan wouldn’t say he was thoroughly disappointed but he was probably in for a very different night than he had imagined.  “People only ever think of us as ancient and worldly but all of us were new once.  I should have recognized that.  What’s your name?”

The preternaturally handsome stranger was losing the edge he had seemed to hold before.  Now the fraying edges painted the vulnerability that had been there all along in broader strokes.  Jeonghan saw the other’s eyes flit around the room with little control. 

Unperturbed, he ventured, “I’m not saying that it wouldn’t make my night infinitely more interesting, but I have some friends who would be disappointed in me if I let you turn a whole room of French high societies into vampires.”

The man looked at him with surprise that was gripped tightly to keep it from showing.

“Of course, I know that’s not your intention, but we all make mistakes. Hence the offer to step out.  Which is still standing, I might add.”

The other had managed to reign in his expression but his voice wavered as he said, “How did you know that?"

"I know just about everything."

Jeonghan could tell that the other wanted to ask more but his focus was darting back at the crowd.

“Who are you looking for out there?” 

The stranger who felt more real at the touch of his senses was a bundle of odd nervousness as he said stiffly, “You need to go.”

“I don’t think I do.”

The young man didn’t even meet his eyes as he spoke now.  He looked over his head at the crowd.  An eeriness that Jeonghan couldn’t ignore settled around them.

“Why don’t we step out,” he offered again, his focus intensifying.  “I’m not just saying that because you’re pretty.”  He was trying to joke, but the other responded,

“You’re not the first man to tell me that.”

Jeonghan stared up at the taller with a dull thud in his heart as he used the words to help him knit the fragments together. 

“You’re here with the man that turned you.”

"You need to go."

"How long has it been?"

"You need to go."

“Not if you’re this scared.”

The other met his gaze, and though it was deep down in the back of those dark eyes Jeonghan saw fear.  It was a tired fear, like he was used to its company.

Jeonghan shuffled between his feet, settling into a more firm stance, and said privately, "Listen, you can trust me.  If you—”

“Everything alright, Jun?”

The voice was smooth and Jeonghan saw the young man’s shoulders tense. 

A rather tall individual stood by them now with a glass in hand.  He seemed almost amused as he looked over Jeonghan’s head at the stranger who now had a name.

“Wonderful.” Jun said flatly.

The man chuckled. 

Jeonghan's nose scrunched.  No one chuckled unless they were trying to seem condescending or wicked and it was a terrible, cliche sound that grated on his ears.  Voice heavy with his lack of amusement, he said, “We were just talking actu---”

“You can go now,” the vampire dismissed, waving his hand without so much as glancing in Jeonghan’s direction.

“I don’t think you know who you’re talking to,” Jeonghan responded darkly.

“I don’t care to know, either.”

A thousand threats were forming in Jeonghan's chest with the weight of all the centuries he'd walked through but the vampire cut him off before he opened his mouth.

“You sort are always so full of yourselves.  Think that just because you built up civilizations that the rest of us should fall in line.”  The vampire dragged his eyes over him for much too long before he added thoughtfully, “You are a bit and a half pretty, though. Elves always have that certain look.”

A small spot of curiosity lit onto Jun’s face but he caught it and avoided Jeonghan's gaze.  The vampire noticed.

“Come on,” the vampire snaked an arm around Jun's waist and pulled him to his side.  “I’m losing interest.” 

Jeonghan stayed in his path, feeling like he was on fire, his anger chaotic and powerful.

The vampire stared him down and even though Jeonghan was trying to bore holes through his face with his eyes, he could see how his hand played at Jun's side and he could feel that it was twisting and freezing him like a threat.

He forced himself to drop the defensiveness of his posturing and move slightly to the side.

Not wanting to make matters worse, Jeonghan said nothing as they walked off, but he kept watching after them long after they disappeared from the hall.

 

. . .

The next time Jeonghan saw Jun he had a bruise on his face.  It was blue and ran along the line of his cheek bone like it was meant to be seen.  When Jun saw him staring he turned away, stepping closer to where the vampire was standing.

Jeonghan settled back into his chair.   He kept watch from a distance.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this. 

He started rationalizing over the rest of his meal, which he’d lost any interest in the second the pair had entered the room.  He didn't like to make other people's business his own, but if they stayed at the palace it would become his business anyway.  He wasn't keen on the idea that the vampire was inserting himself into palace business beyond the party.  That had to mean something.

And Jun. . .he could probably reach him if he tried.  Not that it was his business.  Except that it was.  Because it was no one else's business.  Especially if the only immortal Jun knew was this smarmy son of a bitch that turned him.

He didn't know how long this had been going on, but he suspected he knew why.  It boiled under his skin.  He didn't really care how many times he'd have to broach the topic.  He planned to make a habit of it.  He had all the time in the world to work it out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For careful readers: The vampire who turned Jun shows up in this chapter and certain moments suggest the abusiveness of their relationship. 10/10 would not recommend if you're cautious about that.
> 
> A/N  
> And wow, honestly completing this as a writer was a different kind of difficult. This is moving into almost pre-history for these characters, where we don't have the character traits we expect from them. I had to keep reminding myself that this isn't Jeonghan who has known Jun for years and years. This isn't Jeonghan who even considers the concept of the family unit that they're going to form one day. 
> 
> This is also one of those moments that inspires Jeonghan to question at the end of St. Marks whether Jun hesitates when he's around. That hindsight realization that the way he approached Jun back then and the way he talked and acted was similar to the behavior Jun was used to from the person who turned him. Also, just in the process of writing I realized not only the echo between the vampire's behavior and Jeonghan's behavior, but in Jun's. Where he steps closer to the vampire that turned him it just struck me that I wrote a very similar line during Loch Each when he steps closer to Wonwoo.
> 
> And there's honestly a lot more that could be written in this timeline. There are all the times that Jeonghan physically knocked on the door when only Jun was around and all the many other steps in between that bring us to Chartes but I feel like I'm going to close this piece of the timeline here. I feel like I can't do justice to it without spending a lot of time on it and that would stall out the other stories.


End file.
